


The Church of the Black KLOK

by The_Lionheart



Category: Metalocalypse
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Backstory, Child Abuse, Harm to Children, Ishnifus and MMA are cis women, Probably not gonna be the last time, This show didn't need the number of dudes it has so I made some gals, Women In Power
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-28
Updated: 2014-03-28
Packaged: 2018-01-17 07:30:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1379182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Lionheart/pseuds/The_Lionheart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The woman, his abductor with the silver face<br/>A freakish, deadly demon; a bastard, a disgrace<br/>Born and left alone, never knew her mother<br/>Who was killed during birth, but left her a brother<br/>Together, they were trained to kill those who crossed her path<br/>Her brother died in Mordhaus and now she blames the band, so-</p>
<p> </p>
<p>~C.F. Offdensen, <b>Doomstar Requiem</b></p>
            </blockquote>





	The Church of the Black KLOK

**Author's Note:**

  * For [invictofiction](https://archiveofourown.org/users/invictofiction/gifts), [dragonwrangler](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonwrangler/gifts).



> If it helps: MMA is a gal, Ishnifus is a gal, Seth is about 5/6 years older than Pickles.

_The angel of the KLOK descended unto the servants of the temple and saw that they had lost the light of the star, and she spoke to them thusly,_

“ _I bring you a gift,” she uttered, “that you may know that the time of the KLOK is at hand and that the rise of the Godly Ones is nigh.”_

_But they turned away from her and spoke amongst themselves, for the Prophecies had already been cast into darkness, and a False Prophet had come in their place._

_Thus it was the Angel saw that they had lost the faith, and had conspired amongst themselves. She wept until an ocean of blood rose up and swallowed the False Prophet whole, and the fire of her wrath was terrible and beautiful._

  * Excerpt from the **Book of the End Times**




 

“Kneel, Sister,” the robed man intones, and she takes a knee, head bowed. The red glow of firelight casts everything into strange and unusual shapes. She knows she can see her parents in the crowd of hooded figures, how proud they are, and how scared. She is not the youngest or least experienced Priest to attain the highest rank in Church leadership, but it was a troubling sign when the blood augurs drew her name from the still-warm corpse of the last High Priest. Time is ticking ever closer to the end- the stars have marked the birth of the Great Deceiver by year's end, which means that the Godly Ones are all presumably going to be born in Ishnifus' lifetime.

 

She takes a deep breath, then another. The Prophecies that she has memorized since childhood were very clear about the role of the High Priests- calm, focused, dedicated. None of them are supposed to panic about the responsibility at their own Naming Ceremony.

 

The man before her rolls up his scroll and lowers the heavy gold chain of office over her head, before resting his hands on her shoulders. From here she can see who it is, and her normally serious uncle gives her the smallest smile.

 

“Rise, Mother Ishnifus,” he says, and she stands and raises her open hands to the crowd. There is a moment of silence before the congregation raises its voice in a hymn of thanks and praise. Ishnifus Meaddle releases a breath she didn't know she was holding, and in the distance, thunder rolls.

 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

“You wished to see me, Ishnifus?” her uncle asks quietly, and she stands quickly, pushing her now-cold mug of coffee away from her stack of paperwork.

 

“I did,” she says, and they stand awkwardly for a moment before she goes in for a hug. “I haven't spoken to you since the ceremony, I wasn't... how are you doing, Uncle Aslaug?”

 

“As well as ever,” he says dryly. “We've all been working hard to prepare for the birth of the Great Deceiver, of course.”

 

“Of course,” she says, clearing her throat and stepping back. “I actually did have some Church business I wanted to ask you about, from the time of my predecessor.”

 

“Ah,” he says mildly. “I take it you are referring to the birth of the Twin Beasts?”

 

Ishnifus nods, gesturing towards the holy books and stacked files containing the lore of the Church and the fulfilled Prophecies.

 

“I'm a little concerned,” she says. “Only, the birth was foretold to happen nearly a decade ago, and yet I have almost no information on it other than that it did, at some point, happen.”

 

“Curious,” Aslaug says, “that the records in the High Priest's office would be incomplete.”

 

“It's definitely strange,” Ishnifus agrees.

 

“There is no reason for that to be so,” Aslaug states calmly. “My records are full and we have the Twin Beasts in our custody.”

 

“Great, just go ahead and-” Ishnifus stops, taking mental inventory of what her uncle just said. “What do you mean we have the Twin Beasts in our custody? You mean- we know where they are now, we could go to them?”

 

“They are _here_ ,” Aslaug corrects.

 

“The Twin Beasts- the siblings who are foretold to be enslaved by the Emissary of the Half Man and torture the Godly Ones and kill the Dead Man- they're Children of the Klok?” Ishnifus gasps. “My god, how are we going to tell their _parents_ -”

 

“No, no, no,” Aslaug reassures her. “No Children of the Klok have been tainted with the evil of the Half Man.” Ishnifus stares at him, waiting for an explanation.

 

“When you say they are here,” she begins hesitantly.

 

“It will be a much simpler conversation if I show you,” he says gently. “Come this way, please.”

 

He walks out of the room and she follows, a deep sense of foreboding knotting in her gut.

 

They leave the well-lit hallways and offices and pass downwards into the mountain, and instead of turning left towards the apartments and family homes carved into the stone for permanent residents of the Temple they take an elevator down.

 

She knows what she's going to see before she sees it, and it still makes her skin crawl when he leads her into the darkest dungeons, the places where the Church used to keep the Enemies of the Klok. Ishnifus stops, unable to breathe or look at her uncle.

 

“It's not far,” he says, turning back to her.

 

“Stop,” she whispers, before finding her voice. “Stop. Aslaug- are you telling me there are two nine year old children in captivity here? _In this Temple_?”

 

“They are the Twin Beasts,” he says patiently, and Ishnifus wants to strangle him. “They are not like normal children- they have a destiny, full of sorrow and hatred, and they would never have accomplished it if they had remained with the family they'd been born into-”

 

“Take me to them now!” she screams, pointing a finger at him. “Take me to them right now, or I swear the next cell will be your own!”

 

Aslaug has the grace not to look shocked by her outburst, and it only confirms what her instinct tells her- he _knows_ that he has been a party to monstrous doings.

 

The cell is dark and dank and the children are ghost-white in the little light that comes from the doorway. Ishnifus steps in, and one of the children hisses, baring her teeth at Ishnifus through the curtain of her matted ash-blonde hair.

 

“I will kill you,” the child snarls, clutching her silent brother to her side.

 

“I do not fear you,” Ishnifus says quietly, holding out a hand.

 

“Then you are a fool,” Aslaug interrupts, and Ishnifus throws him a filthy look.

 

“I'll not hear another word out of you, Uncle-” she begins, and the child launches herself at Ishnifus, sinking her teeth into the High Priest's hand. Ishnifus' first instinct is to pull the child closer, squeezing the child tight to her chest and speaking in a soft murmur despite the sawing pain of teeth burying themselves in her flesh.

 

“You will remove your teeth or I will,” she says firmly, and the girl tenses, before opening her mouth just enough to let Ishnifus go. She turns in Ishnifus' arms and spits a mouthful of blood in her face.

 

“I'm sorry this was done to you,” Ishnifus says quietly, and the girl's eyes widen before she starts thrashing angrily against Ishnifus. Ishnifus stands, letting her scramble back to her brother's side, and she wipes the blood from her face with her sleeve. “Both of you... you will be taken somewhere far from here, somewhere safe.”

 

The children watch her warily, and she casts a quick look at Aslaug. “Give them food and drink and light while they wait. You and I will have words later.”

 

Before the hour is over Ishnifus has made arrangements for the children to be taken to the home of one of their finest warriors- not the softest or most luxurious of lives, but with someone who has experience helping other soldiers, someone who won't be intimidated by the violence the children display.

 

By the end of the day Ishnifus has received a report that the Priest in charge of transporting the children is dead and that they are now, officially, missing. She stops everything to call an emergency mass, and Aslaug is dragged before her in chains.

 

“One of our Priests is dead and two children are to blame,” she says, the torchlight flickering violently around her. The congregation is just a sea of pale, shadowed faces in the darkness, and Ishnifus' blood boils. “Two children that you saw ripped from their mother and thrown into a cell, two children that you tortured and starved.”

 

Aslaug raises his head high, eyes cold. “It is the last lifetime before the rise of the Godly Ones. They need their foes in order to triumph during the night of the Doomstar. The Prophecies foretell-”

 

“You are not the voice of the Prophecies,” Ishnifus snaps, “nor their interpreter.”

 

“The Prophecies weren't coming true,” Aslaug spits, and the crowd actually gasps.

 

“It was not your place to make them true,” Ishnifus counters, the flames sputtering in their sconces. “Oh ye of little faith-”

 

“I have dedicated my life to this Church!” Aslaug hisses.

 

“False Prophet I do name you,” Ishnifus thunders, and the torches explode, the flames shoot up and out and burning everything in their paths. “False Prophet, your words I do take, your voice I take, until the hour of your death!”

 

Aslaug's eyes bulge in his face as he drops silently to his knees, and Ishnifus turns away, love and revulsion and fury curdling her heart against him.

 

“The Klok has spoken,” she says to the shocked and terrified congregation. “Yet even now the Klok stays the hand of justice,” she snarls, spitting the last word towards her uncle.

 

“The interference of this Church has doomed the Godly Ones and has doomed us to a future that is unknowable, to a path that lies beyond the scribes of the Doomstar Prophecies. The fates of the Twin Beasts are lost to us,” she roars, fists at her sides. “And the names of their victims have been lost to us. We know not the name of the Dead Man, we know not the name of the Doomstar's blood offering, and this Church has failed to protect this world from the evils of the Half Man because we invited that evil into our hearts the moment we chose to inflict His will upon innocent lives.”

 

The Church of the Black Klok is utterly silent, save for Aslaug's hoarse breathing and the crackle of flame. Ishnifus has never been more disgusted in her life.

 

“This Mass is dismissed. Peace be upon you,” she adds in a low growl, and the congregation mumbles its response.

 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

“Tell me you didn't know,” she says later, and her father pulls her into a loose hug and kisses her forehead.

 

“No, dear,” he says quietly, “we did not. We were never part of the Inner Circle, and we would never have stayed in the Church if we knew this was afoot.” Ishnifus frowns and relaxes a little, pressing her face into the material of her father's robe.

 

“Dad, I don't know what to do,” she whispers, and he sighs into her hair.

 

“It is up to you, dear. Traditionally, the role of High Priest is one held for life-”

 

“Jeez, Dad,” she mutters.

 

“-but I'm sure no one would blame you for leaving,” he finishes, patting her back. “Although some might ask you to stay. The fire of the Doomstar is strong within you.”

 

“Yeah, I noticed,” she admits, pulling away finally. “I think I could probably take a wall down with that, maybe.”

 

“You should practice more,” he says mildly. “You never know when you might need to use a small flame to explode with enough force to shatter stone.”

 

“I'll get on that,” Ishnifus sighs, scrubbing a hand over her face. “Dad, I know you weren't terribly close to your brother, but-”

 

“But Aslaug is not the man he was when we were young,” he tells her. “We were raised better than that. I do wonder what you've done with him,” he adds truthfully.

 

“I sent him to Lillehammer,” Ishnifus says, folding her arms. “To await the birth of the Psychopomp.”

 

“The Psychopomp is the last of the Godly Ones,” her father says, after a moment. “It ...it might be twenty years before the Psychopomp is born.”

 

“It will be eighteen years, alone. We will still send him supplies to live off of, but he will be alone and voiceless.” Ishnifus shakes her head. “He stole those children's lives from them, Dad.”

 

“I know, dear. I know.” He puts a hand on her shoulder, giving her a watery smile. “I'm so proud of you. Your mother is, too. Do you want to wait until she returns?”

 

“I'd love to,” Ishnifus starts, wincing. “We'll take a vacation, the three of us, once the Deceiver is born and located, I promise.”

 

“No pressure,” he smiles. “Just don't forget to drop on on your folks every now and again, alright?”

 

“Alright, Dad,” Ishnifus says, pulling her hood over her head. “And... thank you.” He nods at her, and she leaves to go back to her offices.

 


End file.
